


We’re Just Beginning

by RoseCathy



Series: Don’t Let Me Go [4]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Season/Series 10, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseCathy/pseuds/RoseCathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from life back on Red Dwarf. Established relationship, set shortly after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1212517">Pain</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You kills my brother.”

Silence. Hogey raised his gun and shot at the ceiling.

Still no response. He shot at the wall. “You kills my brother,” he repeated. What with the darkness of the room and his poor eyesight, he didn’t notice the squirming bodies under the covers on the lower bunk.

“Humo?” he queried hesitantly. “Guys?” No answer.

Hogey marched out of the room, shoulders hunched in disappointment.

  


“Has he gone?”

“Shh.” A dreadlocked head poked carefully out of the bunk. “Think so.”

“Good.” The covers were thrown off. “I was just about to suffocate.”

“Rimmer, you don’t need to breathe.”

“There’s no need to rub it in,” Rimmer replied tartly. “And besides,” he added, pinning Lister back down on the bed, “I like breathing.” He bent low to blow warm air into Lister’s ear.

“That reminds me,” Lister said. “About next time. You promised.”

“I can’t say I see the connection, but yes. Next time.”

“Well…can it be now?”

“Now?” Rimmer’s eyes went wide. His face, evidently torn between surprise and interest, froze on a comical expression. Lister reached up and ran his thumb over Rimmer’s open lips.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered. “But I do want you. So much.”

The next few minutes were a blur. Clothes were removed, kisses shared, positions shifted. “Come here.” Lister gently pushed Rimmer’s head down. “Get me nice and hard for you.” _That tongue…oh…_ he groaned much louder than he’d intended. This was going to be good. Better than good, amazing -

“Found youuu!” a gleeful voice shouted in his ear. “You kills my brother.”

“I’m sorry, sir! I tried to stop him!”

“Oh, for smeg’s sake, Kryten.”

\------

It was a testament to Rimmer’s state of mind that he didn’t shrivel up in rage and shame after being caught with Lister’s cock in his mouth. If anything, he was mostly amused at the looks on the two droids’ faces. _That’ll teach Hogey to come barging in…and Kryten to let him. Tried to stop him? The smeg he did._

Nevertheless, the visit had a sobering effect. “I was looking forward to that.”

“Hm.”

Lister frowned and bit down on the thumbnail he’d been chewing. “You don’t sound too torn up about it.” He shifted to look at Rimmer. “Did I pressure you too much? I didn’t mean to - ”

“No, no…it’s not that.” Rimmer patted the hand that had landed on his shoulder. He briefly considered the irony of him reassuring Lister rather than the other way around. “I wanted it just as much. But one can’t help being nervous about…things.” His eyes travelled downward.

Seeing that Lister didn’t know what to say, he continued on the reassuring lark. “I trust you.” Kiss. “It’ll be fine.”

Lister found his voice. “I want it to be better than fine, like, genuinely good. For you as well.”

His concern made Rimmer smile. “I trust you,” he murmured again before resting his head over Lister’s heart. “But if you’re worried, you could prepare me. Tell me what to expect.”

“Mm. You just like hearing me talk dirty.”

\------

Rimmer did like to hear Lister talk dirty, but he didn’t object to the same mouth being put to certain other uses.

They were in the shower, unwinding — and hiding — after a long day of maintenance work. With the door to their quarters locked and barricaded, Rimmer finally felt relaxed enough to let Lister explore with his fingers while sucking him. Their movements had him too close to the edge already, moaning and swearing shamelessly; they were so new, so different from when he did the same things to himself.

“How do you feel?”

Rimmer shivered at the loss of sensation. “Good…good,” he managed to gasp out. “Do you want to…”

Lister stood up, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on.”

Back in the bunk, lying side by side, they gazed solemnly at each other, much as they’d done weeks before when their roles were reversed. This time, it was Lister who asked: “Tell me how you want it.” He paused, thinking. “How you dreamed it.”

Rimmer steeled himself. “Like this.” He turned onto his back and urged Lister on top of him. “I want to watch you.”

“Yeah?” Lister leaned down to suck kisses on his neck, his shoulders, wherever he could reach. “You know, you’re smegging gorgeous, Arnie…”

_Just take me, Dave, I need this. I need you. Fuck me…ohyeslikethat._

  


Lister struggled to catch his breath as he pushed inside Rimmer, slowly at first. He drank everything in — the delicious hot pressure around his cock, Rimmer gasping and making strangled noises that could have been agony or pleasure, almost sobbing at times but still arching up and snatching kisses whenever he could. _Gorgeous._ “Want more?” Rimmer nodded shakily, and Lister let himself move marginally faster, still trying to keep the pace gentle.

“Dave.” He felt a nip at the the side of his mouth. “Touch me.” Rimmer was already stroking himself; Lister joined in, listening for the little gasps and muttered words he’d come to love.

“Look at me,” Rimmer pleaded. Their eyes met, and the memory of their first time together came rushing back. “Come for me,” Lister urged, stroking faster. His thoughts were getting less coherent by the second. “See, I’m looking in your eyes — remember? That’s right, like that - just like when you came - just like that - ” The body underneath his started to quake, and Rimmer cried out, still watching him hungrily. Lister felt the wet warmth spread between them and then he was coming too, moaning through clenched teeth, thrusting helplessly, holding on for dear life.

_I love you. If only I’d known…we could’ve had so many more…_

  


They were side by side again. Rimmer concentrated on caressing Lister’s hand, determined to stay awake a little longer. He couldn’t give up tasting the ache inside him, not yet. He would be sore in the morning, but for now he relished it, the sensation of being opened up and filled still fresh on his mind and body.

“That was.” Lister seemed to forget the rest. “Should do it again.”

“Again.” Again. Yes. Exactly. “Think we need a rota?”

“Eh?”

“Never mind.” On second thought, it was a silly idea. _Soon, I hope._ “’Night, Listy.”

“Lrrf.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Dwarfers were having a bang-up New Year celebration, their first in…no one knew, really. That was hardly relevant. Much more relevant was the stash of GELF hooch they’d picked up a few days previously.

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brain to brought…”

Lister roared with laughter. “Kryten, you’re drunk. It’shh to mind…brain to mind.”

“Hey, Goalpost Head’s passed out! What a lightweight!”

“’m not…and it’s _brought_ to brains. Mind. Whatever.” Rimmer had his head on the table, arms out in front of him. The position was reminiscent of…mmm. He smacked his lips.

“Mr Rimmer, sir, must you be so disgusting?”

“Hm?”

“I can tell by facing - ” — _hic_ — “ - by your face what you’re thinking. You’re deprived. Depraved.” Kryten banged his head a few times on an empty bottle in a bid for control. “You and Mr Lister. Doing those sick, sick, disfiguring things.”

Lister looked up from his glass. “Dishfiguring?”

“I think he means discussing…disgusting. I agree, by the way,” Cat supplied helpfully.

“Kryten,” Lister groaned. “We’ve talked about this. Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“The last time you were in love, sir, she left you! Twice!” Kryten’s voice was well into its hysterical range by now. “I can’t just watch you get your poor heart broken again by this smeeee….smeee…hee…”

Rimmer, who had bristled at the reference to Kochanski, giggled stupidly. “’S not me doing the breaking,” he mumbled. He couldn’t see the pained look on Lister’s face, so he continued, gesturing expansively. “You’re just jealous, Kryten. I’m an _expert_ on being jealous. We should talk.”

“Indeed, Mr Rimmer. Perhaps we should discuss which one of us can make Mr Lister happier!”

“No, you smegging shouldn’t,” Lister interjected, alarmed. “Look, just because I…I…I’ve forgot what I was going to say.” He turned to Cat for support. “Cat?”

Cat was curled up opposite Rimmer, lost to the world. Lister covered his face with his hands, and the next thing he knew, he was lying in the top bunk, staring at the ceiling.

“Rimmer?”

“I’m here.” Rimmer’s head popped over the edge of the bunk.

“Why am I up here?”

“I’ve no idea. I didn’t want to move you.”

Lister leaned down for a kiss. “Missed you.” His heart thumped a little faster at his lover’s smile. “I love you. So much. Even though my neck’s killing me.”

Rimmer tugged gently on one of his dreads. “And I love you. No matter what Kryten says.” His smile became a smirk. “It must be nice to be fought over by so many people. And droids. I think even Hogey’s got feelings for you.”

Lister sighed. “Look, I - ” At the same time, Rimmer started to say “Lister, I - ” They laughed. “Come up here. Next to me.” 

Once settled, Rimmer looked around wistfully. “I’ve never been up here.”

“I know. That’s, erm, what I wanted to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I feel like…like I should have seen it sooner.” Rimmer still looked puzzled. “Like we should have been together long before we actually…could have saved you a lot of heartbreak.”

“You weren’t to know.”

“Wasn’t I?”

“Mm. Maybe.” Rimmer hesitated. “As long as we’re talking about the past…”

“Yeah?”

“I wonder — if I’d given you Kochanski’s personality disk, before. From the beginning. Then she would have got everything. The hard-light drive, and…” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Kryten as well. Then none of this would be real.”

Lister was genuinely unsettled. _Is that what he thinks about when he’s alone?_ “Rimmer. Look at me.” They both smiled, recalling the various occasions when one of them had demanded that of the other. “I don’t know what would have happened. You might be right. But we’re here now, and we’re together. Sod everything else.” _I love you. I tell you I love you every day, but that doesn’t feel like enough._

 _Clomp, clomp, clomp._ “Sirs, having contemplated this matter during my downtime, I’ve reached a conclusion.” The two men broke apart reluctantly to look at Kryten.

“In principle, I cannot object to the revolting activities you engage in together, especially as it generates so much extra laundry.”

“Right.” Lister nudged Rimmer. _Don’t laugh._

“However, I feel I must draw the line at dinner parties. I’m sure some GELF couples are perfectly respectable, but is it necessary to invite them to Red Dwarf for a four-person evening of wine and light conversation? I think not.”

“Kryten -”

“As disheartened as I am that Mr Lister spends far, far too little time with me nowadays…I must admit that he seems content. And I…suppose that is something I…Imustacceptasahappyoccurrence!” Still squeaking, he clattered out the door as fast as his metal legs could move.

Lister stared dejectedly after him. “I thought he was coming round. Maybe I should sit him down, like. Cook him a nice android dinner…”

“You heard what he said, Listy. No dinner parties.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Wiring fault on K deck. Assessment recommended.” According to Kryten’s whispered message, that was all the mainframe condescended to say.

Lister was up to the challenge. It would probably take a full working day to determine where the fault was and do the required rewiring, but no longer. His recent high marks in the engineering course had been good for both his confidence and his skill. It was now 0900 ship’s time; he would almost certainly be back by 2100.

The problem was his bedmate, who currently had him locked down in an embrace.

“I should go.” He tried, unsuccessfully, to wriggle out of the strong arms that seemed to have fallen asleep around his torso.

“Mmph.”

Rimmer had always loved sleeping in. At some point during his planet-leave, he stopped dragging himself out of bed early to jog or fuss over things. While Lister generally appreciated this new, more relaxed Rimmer, this was a moment when the previous model would have been easier to deal with. _Who would have thought?_

“Come on, man. I have to go.”

Rimmer opened his eyes the tiniest bit. “Do you _have_ to?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Kiss me.” Lister raised his eyebrows. “Please.” The kiss made him dizzy — all the raw need and electricity pooling between their joined lips. A soft whine escaped his throat as hands moved over him, grasping and stroking at his hair, his neck, wherever they could reach. Another few seconds of this and Rimmer would have him trapped here for the rest of the morning. He drew back, panting softly.

“I really…” He allowed himself a small hand-squeeze. “Listen, the earlier I leave, the faster I get back.” _He must see the logic in that._

Rimmer, eyes now fully open, chewed on his lower lip. “That’s true, but…I’d rather you stayed with me right now.”

Lister was getting exasperated — him, Dave Lister, (former?) space bum. “Rimmer, I need to find out what that fault is before it turns into something bigger.”

“Would it make a difference?” Rimmer was serious. He was actually serious. “Just one day. One half-day, even.” He tried to draw Lister back into his arms.

Lister put his palms on the hard-light chest and pushed — quite gently, he thought. “I’d prefer not to find out.” _Dave Lister, the Responsible One. Didn’t see that coming._ He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk. “I’ll be back before you know it. Definitely before bedtime,” he promised, bending to drop a quick kiss on Rimmer’s face.

\------

It was midnight before Lister trudged into the sleeping quarters. It had taken him longer than expected to locate the fault, but the repair had been relatively straightforward. He was whistling, the anticipation of a comforting hug and possibly more filling his mind.

The whistle died on his lips when he saw that the bunk was empty. He looked around; through the semi-darkness, he could just make out the form of Rimmer lying on the sofa, his feet dangling over the armrest. “What are you doing there?”

“Nothing.” Something was off about Rimmer’s voice; it sounded dull, flat. “You’re late.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry. It was nothing serious, just a few things that needed replacing, but it took much longer than I…” Lister trailed off, unsure whether Rimmer was listening.

“Exactly.” The way Rimmer said the word was downright chilling. “So really, it would have made very little difference if you had stayed a couple more hours.”

“I - ”

“I needed you.” Rimmer finally turned his head to look at Lister. “I thought that was clear.”

 _This is bizarre._ Lister decided to try for some levity. “Rimmer, I think fixing the ship is more important than a shag.”

Rimmer sat bolt upright. “It wasn’t about a _shag_ ,” he said scathingly. “I’m not a total gimboid, Lister. I know fixing the ship is important. But at the time, I needed you to stay with me. Just for that moment.”

“It wasn’t going to be just a moment. You said yourself — ‘one day’, ‘A couple more hours’.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? I was looking forward to coming back, maybe to make up for earlier - ”

“It’s not the same.”

“What do you want, Rimmer? I can’t spend all day in bed with you.”

“Not what I asked.”

“You might as well have! We’re not alone on that planetoid anymore. We can’t just leave the ship and avoid all this drudge work. You know how important it is! You’ve certainly nagged me enough times about it.”

Rimmer recoiled as if he’d been slapped. “I didn’t leave the ship _to avoid work_.”

They glared at each other, breathing hard. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Rimmer slid off the sofa and walked out of the room without looking back.

\------

Rimmer knew he was being unreasonable. How many times had he lectured Lister about how crucial it was to keep them afloat, how he needed to actually apply his skills? True, Lister hadn’t come back as early as promised, but that wasn’t his fault.

And yet…the hands pushing against his chest. Pushing him and his need away. They had been gentle, patient even, but the gesture had hurt. Still hurt, in fact.

His unarticulated hope had been that Lister would be just as reluctant to leave as he was to let him go. There was nothing he loved more than Lister, than being with him, keeping him close for fear that it would all disappear one day. Did Lister have the same fear? Most likely not. But even without that spectre of doom, there was something about being wanted — wanted so much so that a spontaneous decision (within reason) could be made to forget the smegging repairs and indulge that want.

Belatedly, Rimmer considered the implications of what he had just done, and panic vibrated through him. He had no idea where to go from here, literally or figuratively. All he could do was keep walking.

If only Lister had compromised. One more hour. Hell, thirty minutes. Just thirty…twenty more minutes of intimacy.

If only he could stop feeling those hands pushing at him, rejecting him.

\------

To Lister’s surprise, Rimmer was not in the Observation Dome. _Bastard._ He leaned on the railing, trying not to think about the fact that he had no idea where to look next.

He felt rejected. After his day of hard work, he had looked forward to a peaceful night in the arms of the man he loved. All he expected from Rimmer was some petulance, perhaps followed by some of the possessive behaviour that excited him more than he could admit, but instead…

“Ahem.”

Lister whipped around; Rimmer was standing at the top of the stairs. He considered the list of things to say that wouldn’t make this any worse, and finally settled on “I didn’t hear you.”

Rimmer shrugged. “You wouldn’t have.” There was something different about him…“I switched to soft-light.” Oh.

It was clear that they both needed comforting. Lister inched closer, wanting to reach out. “Can you switch back?”

Rimmer didn’t answer. He walked up to the railing, gazing outward, and Lister recalled another night in the Observation Dome — the night Rimmer had received the letter about his father’s death. He gritted his teeth, frustrated at not being able to touch, to hold. Suddenly, he found himself wondering what it would be like if Rimmer lost his hard-light drive. _No. Stop._ Some things were too awful to contemplate.

“I’m sorry.”

Lister let out the breath he had been holding. “For what?”

“Blaming you.” Rimmer’s eyes were still fixed on the stars. Lister didn’t know what to say, except -

“Could you please switch back?”

“Not yet. I, er…need a break from something.”

“A break.”

Rimmer finally turned to look at Lister. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but I feel…” He paused as if to gather more courage. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but you still…pushed me away. With your hands. I can’t feel it in soft-light.”

“When did I push you away?” Lister asked, honestly confused. Rimmer’s nostrils flared impatiently. “When you left?”

_Oh, Arnie._

“Well, you’re right. I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t realise…”

“ _I know._ I know.” Rimmer looked wretched.

“But I’ll try not to do it again. I didn’t…it wasn’t a ‘go away’ type of message.”

“Good.”

They stood silently, looking everywhere but at each other, until Lister couldn’t take it anymore. “Switch back. Please,” he urged softly. As soon as Rimmer completed the change, Lister closed the distance between them and threw his arms around him. “Missed you.”

A deep, shuddering sigh shook Rimmer’s body. “I missed you.” Soon they were clinging to each other, trying to express contrition and forgiveness and longing all at once.

“You must be exhausted.” Rimmer muttered, pulling away a little. “We should get some sleep.”

“Not yet.” Lister drew him back in for another kiss. “Come with me.”

They walked in hand in hand down the stairs, through the door, to…in truth, neither of them had a destination in mind. After several random turns, they found themselves in a dark, empty bunkroom.

“Where are we?”

“Don’t know,” Lister said cheerfully. “But I know I want you.”

Rimmer smirked. “I would hate to see Kryten’s face if he catches us. You know he goes all over the ship to clean.”

“Stop talking about Kryten, man. You’re ruining the mood.” Rimmer let out a soft “oof” as Lister spun him around and pushed him onto the lower bunk. “Is it okay like this?”

“Oh, yes…”

They tried to keep their voices down — truthfully, Lister was wary of getting caught as well — but Rimmer seemed to find it increasingly difficult. “Shh. You’re practically screaming,” Lister hissed in his ear. It had the opposite of the desired effect; Rimmer groaned even more loudly and gasped, “That doesn’t help — ohyesfuckme - please - ”

There was just enough time to clap a hand over Rimmer’s mouth before he came, arching his back and — yes — screaming in ecstasy. Lister kept his hand where it was during his own final thrusts, marvelling at how much Rimmer enjoyed its presence. _Sexy bastard._

\------

It wasn’t Kryten who found them in the morning, but the Cat.

“Eww! Do you monkeys have to take _this_ \- ” — he made a sweeping gesture — “everywhere?”

Lister felt defensive. “Not everywhere. Just here. And, er, a few other places - ”

“Once again, EW. I do not want to know. Get out.”

“Why?”

“I marked out this room as a spare closet!”

“It’sh contaminated now.” Rimmer was still mostly asleep. “Find another.”

“Yeah, exactly. Contaminated,” Lister agreed. “With our…monkey scents.”

Cat looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I see your point.” He turned to go. “But,” he said sternly, paused just short of the door, “No more of _this_. Keep to your own room from now on. My suit collection ain’t getting any smaller.”

“Sure, man.” As soon as the door slid shut, Lister settled back down beside his lover, who clamped arms and legs around him in a squid-like embrace. This time, he had no intention of wriggling out. “Or not.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little retrospective.

_6 Months._

Head propped up on one hand, Rimmer regarded his sleeping bunkmate.

On nights they didn’t fall asleep naked, Lister still went to bed in the eye-wateringly red long johns. Rimmer thought he looked like a half-hearted Father Christmas and sometimes told Lister so, receiving a cheeky grin or a stuck-out tongue for his pains. What he didn’t tell Lister was that the silly garment figured in some of his ( _their_ ) sweetest memories.

\------

_Day 1._

Rimmer doesn’t want the kiss to end. He is only capable of one brave act at a time, and initiating it was his one for today; he has no notion of what he will or should do next. More importantly, he is content to let this last forever. He was taken by surprise earlier; now he is calmer, better to enjoy the warmth of the mouth on his, the hands that are making soothing movements on his shoulders, the pounding of the heartbeat close to his own.

He inhales deeply when Lister pulls away. He keeps his eyes closed tight and runs his tongue slowly over his lower lip as if to compensate for the loss, not considering that the gesture might be perceived as seductive.

“Hey.”

Lister’s hands are still on his shoulders. He decides to sneak a peek, and his breath catches — Lister’s eyes have not only the usual mischievous sparkle, but something softer as well. Happiness? Affection? Or just fatigue?

“I need to pop back to Blue Midget. Just to…I packed some stuff. Just in case.”

“Yes.” Rimmer cringes. He sounds squeaky. He also doesn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll come and find you, yeah? I think we both need some sleep.” Rimmer merely nods, not trusting his voice, but that single act is somehow deserving of a quick peck on the cheek. A few minutes pass before he manages to turn himself around and walk up to the sleeping quarters he’s been using.

  


Rimmer lies still in the bunk, covers pulled up. He has forgotten how to think. He is too shocked even to worry about what might happen when Lister comes back. If he does come back.

He feels a hand on his arm; Lister is crouched beside the bunk, looking as ridiculous as ever in his red long johns, but wearing an unusually solemn expression. “Can I join you?”

Still not trusting himself to speak, Rimmer shifts to make room for Lister. A second later, their lips are together again, and he loses himself in the gentle but insistent exploration of tongues and teeth. By the first time they pause for breath, their arms have brought their bodies together, close but not so close that anything more is implied. For now, it is perfect.

Too perfect. Rimmer’s brain finally catches up with the situation and begins its sabotage subroutine. “Are you real?” He is past caring if the question is stupid; he needs to know.

Lister chuckles — affectionately? Indulgently? He kisses Rimmer yet again and squeezes his hand. “I am.”

Soon, Lister is more than halfway to sleep, one red-sleeved arm draped lazily around Rimmer. It is then that Rimmer commits his second brave act of the day: he expresses tenderness. Soft kisses, fingers run through dreadlocks. He tries to remember when he first felt the urge to do this; it was a long time ago. He feels very brave indeed.

\------

Lister refocused his eyes to see Rimmer staring at him, mouth open in shock. “You scared me!”

“Oh, eh?” He stretched luxuriously. “You scare _me_ sometimes, man. Watching me sleep like that.”

“If you’re sleeping, how do you — never mind.” Rimmer shook his head. Lister took this as his cue to pull him down. It was time for a nice snog.

\------

_Day 12._

Lister is nestled against Rimmer’s back. This is new, a bit awkward; Rimmer has to fold up to make himself smaller. It’s nice, though — sometimes he likes being held rather than holding. The soft fabric of Lister’s long johns rubs comfortingly against his legs.

“Arn?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve got a question. It’s sort of daft.”

“What is it?”

“What do you see in me?”

Rimmer freezes. He could list some attributes, certainly, but his feelings are much deeper. He doesn’t want to touch those. Not right now.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he parries.

“I asked first.”

With a dramatic sigh, Rimmer burrows deeper into the pillow of Lister’s arm. “Oh, I don’t know. Your stupid gerbil face. Those songs you sing. Your horrible guitar-playing. Take your pick, really.” _Your smile. Your heart. The way you always come back for me._

Lister turns him around. “What about this?” Rimmer leans into the kiss, which turns into groping and wrestling. Soon, he is tearing at the red fabric, overcome by the need to touch, to feel, to hear the wonderful sounds that Lister makes when he loses control.

_The way you make me feel alive._

\------

“I love you, Dave.”

“I love you too. Happy six months.”

“What?”

Lister laughed at Rimmer’s gobsmacked expression. “What, you thought I didn’t know?”

\------

_Day 114._

“And you definitely think this is a good - ohh.”

“I think that answers your question, Dave.”

Lister is pinned facing the wall in some dark corridor in some section or other of the ship. Rimmer strokes him through his long johns, delighting in the way he rubs and thrusts against the touches. “Stop…teasing…”

“If you didn’t insist on wearing this silly thing, it would be easier.” It’s true. In his dreams about this — a quick, dirty encounter born of desperation — the clothing he had to contend with was far less obstructive.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get it off.” Rimmer obeys. In a trice, the offending garment is pulled down, and his own trousers are undone. “I want you.”

“I have an idea, actually.”

“ _Lister._ ”

“Tie me up.” Lister frees his feet from the long johns. “With these.”

“Are you…”

“Yes, I’m serious. Get on with it.”

It takes a little work (and a lot of frustration), but they manage to get Lister’s wrists tied in front of him in a strange sort of straitjacket. “Now.”

Rimmer needs no further encouragement. He grips Lister around the waist as he ploughs into him from behind, breaths almost coming in sobs. Their combined noises echo in the empty corridor. For that moment, everything is perfect.

\------

The alarm jolted Rimmer out of his reminiscence. 7 o’clock…urgh. Yet another day of inventory ahead. “Rimmer, you’re not listening.”

“Who?”

“I asked you what you were thinking of.” Lister grinned knowingly. “Something filthy, I’ll bet.”

“What if I was?” Rimmer retorted, feeling a familiar heat on his cheeks. “Today is a big day.”

“So what was it?”

 _Persistent smegger._ “If you must know, _miladdo_ , I was thinking about the first time we used these.” Rimmer ran a hand over the red cotton. “You, all trussed up…absolutely begging for it.”

Lister’s eyes lit up at the dark edge in his voice. “Eh, well, you’re easily persuaded.”

“Am I?”

“But if you want, I’ll beg again. As long as you don’t talk to me about haggis.”

“Fine, fine.” Rimmer went in for one last hug before they got up. _This is perfect. Completely, utterly perfect._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the premise for this chapter is from _Last Human_ , which I’ve only read summaries of.

The latest mail pod’s crash site was an hour away by lift. Rather than have Kryten or the skutters bring the whole thing up, Lister and Rimmer decided to make the most of sorting the mail. They would go to the pod, retrieve what they wanted, and perhaps spend the night; there was bound to be a bunkroom or a camp-bed somewhere in the area.

It was a strange idea for a date. Instead of walking hand-in-hand on a beach, they were walking down a red-painted corridor, picnic basket and all. Such was life in deep space.

“To Ganymede and Titan, yes, sir, I’ve been around, but there ain’t no place in the whole of - what?”

“It’s so ridiculous.”

“The song?”

“Actually, I was thinking of how I used to tell you off for singing.” The goofy grin on Rimmer’s face warmed Lister’s heart. Six months ago, he could never have imagined _that_ face looking like _that_. He swung their joined hands merrily. “Ah, so you like me singing.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“To Ganymede and Titan - ”

“Oh, shut up.” As soon as they stepped into the lift, Rimmer pinned him against the wall, and Lister gave himself up to hot, possessive kisses and touches. This — Rimmer taking charge of him — didn’t happen all the time, but it thrilled him deeply when it did, in ways he couldn’t quite explain. Even now, he wanted a little more…could they do something with his scarf, maybe? Then he felt his trousers being unzipped, and he forgot all about the scarf.

\------

Lister reached in for another handful of mail. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the mail pod, and Rimmer lay stretched out, head resting in his lap. “Hey, you’ve got one! To Arnold J Rimmer. No return address…is that perfume?”

Rimmer snorted. “Probably my mum. Let me see.”

Lister continued with the sorting. “Petrovich…ooh, _Zero Gee Digest_ …Petrovich again - ” He paused. He was fairly certain that Rimmer had stopped breathing. “What’s wrong?”

When a full twenty seconds passed without response, he gently pulled the letter from Rimmer’s hand. “Come on, man, who’s it from?”

_Dear Arnold,_

_I wanted you to know that, contrary to the impression I might have given, I very much enjoyed our short time together. We could have had something special, you and I, but we were both too shy to take the next step, I suppose. However, it’s best that we move on, especially now that I’ve got this new placement on Mimas._

_I’m sorry I didn’t call. I hope that if our paths ever cross again, we can be friends._

_Yours truly,  
Yvonne McGruder_

“Smeg.” Lister put down the letter and reached out to steady Rimmer’s shaking hands. “You okay?”

“It’s…” Troubled hazel eyes looked up at him. “I just…never thought it meant anything to her. Not that there’s anything to do about it now. I mean, not that I would want to, with you and…you know.”

“But you’re wondering what might have been, is that it?”

“I guess so.” Rimmer pulled himself up to join Lister at his post.

Lister gulped, trying to contain the unpleasant sensation that was bubbling in his gut. Smegging hell. Was he _jealous_? Of a one-night stand that happened over three million years ago with someone who was long gone? How many times had he taken the piss out of… _oh_.

There was the rub: He had made fun of the affair countless times on the premise that it didn’t count. It had been quick, Yvonne had been concussed, and so on. It had never entered his mind before that Rimmer might think back on it fondly or imagine a different outcome. Hell, maybe there was a parallel universe in which Rimmer had left Red Dwarf too and led an ordinary, happy life with Yvonne — like in the Better Than Life game, but less exaggerated — instead of the odd existence he led here.

“Lister?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t the insecure one in the relationship; Rimmer was. So why did he feel this way? After all they’d been through together?

“Dave…” Despite everything, he felt slightly better when Rimmer laid his head on his shoulder. “You know it doesn’t really mean anything. Not now. It’s like you said before. We’re here now, and sod everything else.”

Lister’s only response was to hug him close. He was too occupied with a new emotion — guilt — to say anything. Which was was nonsensical, of course, since they weren’t in that parallel universe. He hadn’t deprived Rimmer of the cosy, normal life with Yvonne and the mortgage and the children named after great generals. Given the constraints of this universe, they were doing exceedingly well.

But it was lonely. Lister still moped occasionally about their isolation, and he knew Rimmer did as well to a lesser degree. Given a choice, neither of them would have elected to be stuck out here. Then where would they be now?

“Although…” Lister looked up, startled. What on earth was Rimmer so happy about? “It’s lovely to have the tables turned for once.”

“You what?”

“You’re _jealous_! Because of me!” Before Lister could reply, he was swept into a series of messy kisses, punctuated all the way through with infuriating chuckles.

“Git.”

\------

They did find a small bunkroom off the lift corridor. As soon as they’d put down their bundles of mail, Rimmer stretched out on the bottom bunk and pulled Lister on top of him. “Oof! Three guesses as to what’s on your mind.”

“I’m not so predictable as that, Listy.” Rimmer’s hands travelled to Lister’s neck and started to unwind the scarf.

“Too late,” Lister teased between kisses. “Thought of that already.”

“Actually, I was thinking that you could use it on me.”

 _Well._ This was new. There had been times when Lister had more or less taken control, but he hadn’t gone further than pinning Rimmer’s wrists down. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” A hand came up to rest on his face. “I’m all yours.”

Something in that voice gave Lister pause. “Rimmer…”

“What?”

“Is this about earlier? Because…” _Because you don’t need to prove anything. Because you’re the one who’s threatened by my past, not the other way around. Because you put up with all that pain just for me. Was I worth it? Am I?_

Rimmer didn’t push. “Oh, I don’t know. Partly, I suppose. But I’ve considered it before. It’s exciting, the idea of letting you do whatever you want with me. Within reason, obviously.”

Lister couldn’t argue with that. His hands trembled a little as he finished stripping them; he was still on edge, images of alternate universes competing with thoughts of what to do here and now. _Wrists up…just there. Whatever I want…_ What did he want? He decided to concentrate on tenderness — sweet little kisses and love bites, as if to atone for the guilt that had overwhelmed him earlier.

After several minutes of this, Rimmer became impatient. “I have to admit, David, I’m a bit disappointed.”

Lister laughed; the amusement he felt at watching Rimmer squirm was a welcome relief from his turmoil. “Well, Arnold, that’s because you’re a filthy-minded, randy bugger.”

“Hm. Can’t deny that.”

“Oh, I see.” Lister leaned in to brush their noses together. “You were expecting me to fuck you senseless.”

“Something like that…”

Despite his previous misgivings, Lister found himself glorying in the roughness that ensued. Every plea for more, every answering push, every tightening of the legs wrapped around his back fed some starved, wild-eyed creature inside. “You’re all mine, you know. All. Mine,” he whispered harshly in Rimmer’s ear.

“Yes,” Rimmer agreed breathlessly. “All yours - ” he broke off with a groan, pulling vainly at the scarf that secured his wrists together. Lister just managed to keep his grip on the ends as his own orgasm hit; the creature inside him — or maybe it was just him — was thrashing around in both pleasure and deep pain.

 _So this is what it was like for him. To love, to hurt…_ “Dave?”

“Hm?”

“Could you, er…”

“Right. Sorry.” With what little strength he had left, Lister reached up to untie the scarf.

\------

The next morning was a blur. They had slept much longer than they’d meant to, and gathering up their belongings and mail seemed to take ages. It took some effort even to shuffle into the lift.

“It was supposed to be a holiday,” Rimmer grumbled, sinking onto the bench.

“Yeah, but we had fun. I think.”

“I certainly did.” With that goofy grin suddenly on his face again, Rimmer pulled the perfumed letter out of his pocket. “All because of this. I owe Yvonne a debt of gratitude.”

Lister shook his head at him. “You’re still a git.”

“I know. That’s why you love me.”

“We’ll see about that. To Ganymede and Titan, yes, sir, I’ve been around…”


	6. Chapter 6

As the weeks wore on, Kryten and Cat reduced the frequency of their expressions of distaste regarding what the latter liked to call “this _thing_ with you two.” Although he claimed that his nostrils were constantly overloaded with vomit-inducing scents, Cat was too invested in his usual concerns to care too much. As for Kryten, he was somewhat mollified by seeing his beloved Mr Lister rejuvenated — he hummed more, drank less, and was less given to moping.

Nonetheless, it _was_ rather unfortunate the way he and Mr ~~Smeeee~~ Rimmer whiled away their time in the drive room. They were so averse to being separated, it seemed, that one of them simply had to have his fingers brushing the other’s shoulder or neck. More often, however, they squashed themselves into one chair so that quite a few other body parts were touching as well. And if the noises that came from that chair now and again were any indication…but Kryten closed his mind to further analysis at that point. _Humans._

  


Lister and Rimmer did try to be considerate when the others were awake and nearby. Although they wouldn’t admit it, the challenge of being quiet was as exciting as it was courteous. Even if they agreed beforehand to not escalate from snogging, _just a bit more_ was a tempting proposition, especially when they had spent time apart. What harm could a single furtive grope possibly do, one of them would whisper, all very reasonably.

“More…please…”

“Listy, Listy, Listy. I thought we agreed — just once.”

“You smegger, you’re all out of breath too - ah! More…”

“Shhh.” Rimmer would never tire of watching Lister during moments like this. The eager twisting of his body, the rapid movement of his chest. The warm, swollen cock twitching under his hand. “I missed you, you know.” He nuzzled at Lister’s neck and breathed in his scent. “Barely saw you today.”

Lister moaned through bitten-down lips. “I know, I missed you too - _fuck,_ don’t stop.”

“I won’t. But we have to be quiet.”

“Can’t…” Lister leaned his head back and looked up pleadingly, which was his signal that he needed some help. Rimmer gently placed his unoccupied hand over his ( _absolutely gorgeous_ ) mouth. It was a shame, he reflected, as Lister panted and rocked against him. He liked to listen to - _OW!_

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got another hand. A bit sticky, of course, but - _oh -_ ”

“Mr Lister?” Kryten’s singsong voice floated downstairs. “I’ve prepared a nice midnight curry for you! Of course, if you’re too busy with your _work_ , I would be happy to bring you a tray.”

Rimmer’s head hit the chair with a thump. “Smeg’s sake!”

“Shh. Later.”

\------

Kryten could tell that neither of his human charges had slept the previous night. They were both stood in front of Dispenser 34, leaning heavily on each other and apparently unable to decide on an order. “Busy night, sirs?” he sniffed.

“Morning, Krytes,” Mr Lister yawned. “You could say that.”

 _Honestly!_ “If I may say so, Mr Lister, if you dedicated less time and energy to certain activities and got real rest once in awhile…”

“Not what you think,” Mr Rimmer mumbled. “You know, for a mechanoid, you’ve got a sss - sl - something imagination. Can’t think of the word.”

“You probably want ‘smutty’. Or ‘sordid’,” 34 piped up.

 _Oh, please, 34. As if you don’t spy on them all the time._ “Regardless, sirs, you need a fortifying beverage. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

“Dunno.”

Kryten made an executive decision to order two large coffees with extra sugar. _They think they can fool me…_ “Inside, sirs. Let’s get you sitting down.”

  


Contrary to Kryten’s belief, they had stayed up all night talking.

After Lister had fulfilled his promise of _later_ in a most gratifying manner, Rimmer lay snuggled into his side, fingers stroking lazily over his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“I thought I had a stupid gerbil face.”

“Well, you do.”

“Heh.” Lister shifted so that they were chest-to-chest, legs tangled comfortably. Rimmer’s heart ached pleasantly at the way his lover’s eyes shone out at him, full of laughter and tenderness.

“Lister, is it weird for you, being with a man?” The words tumbled out unchecked, much like the first time he’d confessed his feelings. “Is it too different?”

He couldn’t blame Lister for looking baffled. “I think it’s a bit late for that now, Rimmer. You’re going daft in your old age. But if you’re really curious…”

“Tell me.”

“It is different, mind, but,” Lister paused thoughtfully. “You’re _you_. We’ve been together for a long time, one way or another. I know you. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm.”

“Actually, I’ve always been curious about your thoughts.”

“My thoughts?”

“Yeah, like how this — you and me — started in the first place.”

“This.” How _did_ it start? And when?

\------

Lister is glad to have him back, but it is not enough.

Rimmer feels like he has failed — no, he _has_ failed in his original mission. Lister is perpetually drunk and excessively aware of his mortality. Rimmer wants to help, if only so that he can have his dependably irritating chipmunk-cheeked goit of a roommate back. He is simply not equipped for such a task, he thinks.

A part of him is so relieved when Kochanski is (so they believe) lost forever that he does something he’s never done before — let Lister cry on his shoulder. He is truly sympathetic, but thinks that this may be the wake-up call, the push that Lister needs to reassess his life.

Some of the old spirit does return, mostly in the form of puerile pranks. However, Lister is still in the grasp of several demons; at his core, he feels that he is of no use or benefit to anyone anymore. Rimmer carries on much as he’s always done, trying to inject some normalcy back into their lives. Around the same time, _he_ begins to feel depressed and angry. At first, he attributes it to everything that has happened, to being around Lister, even to his largely nonexistent regret at having given up Ace. Only after helping Lister into bed following yet another drunken crying fit does it occur to him that the cause is something more familiar: He feels inadequate.

All that matters to Lister is his true love. Although the ragtag crew of the Dwarf and the needs of the ship itself keep him going after a fashion, he is ultimately nothing without her. The oddest, longest relationship of his life pales in comparison to his devotion to the woman of his dreams. Having Rimmer back is a diversion, but it is not enough.

Rimmer is not enough — well, why should he be? The knowledge stings like a thousand separate pinpricks on his simulated heart — well, why should he care? _Because I want him to be happy. Which is because I have to look out for number one._ It stands to reason that if Lister were happier, Rimmer would also stop feeling like smeg. _And I’d do anything for that._

Anything?

_Anything._

For instance?

_I don’t know! Something. Whatever puts a real smile on that face again._

Why does he care?

_Because…_

Because he wants to be enough. To be the impetus for Lister to start living again. If _he_ were Lister’s true -

_What?_

The emotions that come crashing down on him force Rimmer to turn tail and flee. Some time later, he finds himself slumped in his chair in the drive room, mercifully hidden from the world by the tall backrest. Very well, he’ll spend the night there; it’s not as though Lister will mind.

Towards the end of his fifth hour of trying to come to grips with everything, he realises to his horror that there is a physical side to…to _this_ and has been for awhile. He is too exhausted at this point to rationalise it, any of it. There’s a sensible explanation, he thinks: He wants to love and be loved, after all, so why shouldn’t he want that too? It’s only natural to want all of it. Everything.

A few days later, he wakes up from the first dream. It was tame — just a nice, harmless ( _Harmless?!_ ) cuddle, with Lister looking more cheerful than he had in a decade — but the memory makes him ache all over with longing. He stares at the base of the upper bunk, indulging in a reckless fantasy about Lister sneaking down to join him, if only because the loneliness of a Kochanski-less universe got to be too much.

\------

“And when we were in that hallucination, and you wouldn’t come out because you had Kochanski…”

“I remember.” Lister’s voice was subdued. It was a sore subject for both of them.

“Then I knew — well, I thought — it was hopeless. And that made it even clearer that I felt…you know.” _It hurts to remember. Even now._ Soft, soothing kisses peppered his lips and cheeks, and he closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the moment, the _now_.

Eventually, he felt Lister smile against his face. “And it’s not weird for you? Being with a bloke?”

“No.” That had stopped being an issue ages ago, hadn’t it? Even before he fully understood his own feelings. It was hard to explain. “It might not make much sense, but I just…wanted to be with you. To matter to you.” _To be desired,_ he didn’t add, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

“Arnie, I love you. You know I do,” Lister murmured. “But I like you as well. I like looking at you, and touching you, making you feel good…being close to you any way I can. Because it does make sense.”

“What does?”

“This. Us.”

“I’m glad you agree.” Rimmer smiled, noting with pleasure how Lister’s face immediately changed to mirror his. “So, er…what do you like about me, specifically?”

“What, do you want a list? You really are going daft.”

And that was how they spent the rest of the night: half-jokingly (and therefore 50% seriously) cataloguing the many ways in which they appealed to one another. The items on the final list included everything from “eyes” and “hair” to “being a stubborn smegger” and “faffing about pretending to revise, but in a cute way”. And some more explicit details that they were too tired to demonstrate.

  


Kryten wasn’t to know any of this. He shook his head disapprovingly when he thought they weren’t looking.

“Would you like some breakfast, sirs?” No answer. He realised then that they really weren’t looking, having dozed off at the table. “MR LISTER! MR RIMMER! This cannot continue!”

Mr Lister’s head snapped up. “Who? What?”

“There’s work to do! _You_ were supposed to help me with the laundry today, sir, but now you’re of no use to anyone because of…of…”

“Oh, Kryten, you know I wouldn’t let you down.” Mr Lister jumped up and flashed his winningest smile. “Look, I’ll come with you right now, and I’ll bring the coffee. In fact, I’ll get a whole flask.”

Kryten felt a hair less huffy. “Very well. And Mr Rimmer, _you_ ’re meant to be taking a look at the photocopiers. I think Mr Cat has finally broken all of them.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll get a flask as well.” The mechanoid grimaced as the two humans shared what looked like a deliberately sloppy kiss. “Drive room, 2300?”

“Mmhmm.”

_Ugh! The drive room again?_


	7. Epilogue (maybe)

_Dear Dad,  
Happy Father’s Day! _

_~~Thanks for~~ _  
_~~I hope you~~_  
 _~~I have some~~_

Lister chewed on his pen, unable to go on.

“What are you doing?” Rimmer asked from the top bunk, where he’d been reading. He seemed to enjoy the novelty of spending time there every so often, surrounded as he was by Lister’s decorations.

“Father’s Day card,” Lister replied absently. “Trying to decide how to tell my dad about us.” He turned around to look at Rimmer, pen still lodged between his teeth. “Should I give him the whole story, or just a short announcement type of thing?” His question was met with a blank stare.

“He, or you…he…already knows, I would think,” Rimmer finally said, gesturing confusedly.

“Yeah. I suppose.”

“Lister,” Rimmer’s mouth was twitching now. “Who am I with, you or your dad, er…father or son? Or both? Have we settled that?”

Lister shook his head and spat the pen out. “I’ll come back to this later.” Seeing Rimmer lying in his bunk had given him an idea. He sauntered over and tapped the metal frame. “Hey, Arn…how come we’ve never done anything up there?”

“I don’t know. Might be dangerous.”

 _And you look smegging good with your hair all sticking up._ “Eh, I don’t think it would. As long as you try to be gentle.”

“Ah, it’s my turn to do all the work, is it?”

“Work? Is that what you call it? I’m offended.” Lister winked. “You love it, though.”

“Of course I do. Come here.”

  


Dear Dad,

Sometimes I try to sit down and understand what’s happened, but it’s complicated. And lovely.

Arnold ~~Smeghead~~ Rimmer is making love to me in my bed.  Maybe I should have covered Gran’s eyes before we started. He’s holding me like he’ll never, ever let me go, and when I kiss his neck or nibble on his shoulder, he makes this sound and licks his lips…it’s gorgeous. Every bit of him is gorgeous, even the little lines around his eyes.

His eyes. I can see so much joy in them, and it makes me want to cry. Before, I didn’t know he was capable of love, or of being happy or kind for that matter. I think he wasn’t really, not until recently by our long-slog-through-deep-space standards. He’s changed and grown. I could take credit for some of that. I think he’d even let me. The fact is, though, that we’ve both grown, (I think) enough so that we can each be a partner that the other deserves, or is it so that each of us deserves the other?

And now, when he whispers “I love you, Dave” in my ear as we get closer to… _oh, so close…_ I don’t know why it should shake my entire being to its foundations, but it does.

No, I do know. It’s because I’m lucky as smeg. He came back to me — both times. We were always destined to spend the rest of our lives together, only we didn’t know it would be in this way.

Love,  
Dave xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
